


Dreams are Sweet

by Camcat144



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camcat144/pseuds/Camcat144
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Les Amis de L'ABC gather together in a meadow to relax. Fighting for mutant rights can be very tiring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams are Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I know that mutant week is a thing, but I am not sure if it happens annually, or just once, so I'm posting this now.  
> Tittle, of course, from "Deep in the Meadow" from the Hunger Games

Enjolras lies on his stomach in front of a picnic basket, head in his arms. He dozes, a small smile on his face. His legs are tangled up in Courfeyrac’s, and from that point they diverge like a “V” in the grass. Enjolras must keep his head away from Courfeyrac, who isn’t fireproof like Enjolras. Enjolras’s hair falls in golden curls down his back, ending in tiny flames.  
A dark head rests in the small of Courfeyrac’s back. Lying perpendicular to Courfeyrac is Combeferre, who is shirtless so as to let his large white wings spread out in the sun. One of his hands is reached out to grasp Courfeyrac’s, and from his unusual position Combeferre must talk loudly to be heard. More often, he simply stays silent.  
Courfeyrac still has trouble believing this is okay. He was never for making mutants pretend they were human, of course not, but surely he’s different? His power is almost mind control--it makes him irresistible to others. He had admitted once that that didn’t mean sex, just touch, though people had never seemed to understand that for the first twenty years of his life. But his wonderful, amazing friends were okay with this. They had given their consent for this, and sometimes Courfeyrac thought he might cry because he didn’t have to hide it, hold it in for fear of hurting others by accident.  
Slightly apart from Combeferre, Feuilly is eating fruit from the picnic-- he’s between shifts and hungry. His pupils are an unflickering purple and he occasionally interrupts his conversation with Prouvaire to warn him of a pop quiz Prouvaire will soon have or mention odd tidbits he picks up from about ten years in the future.  
Prouvaire, to his left, is flopped on the grass. The plants have grown up and curled around his legs, the flower crown sitting atop his braided hair is still connected directly to the earth. Prouvaire claims he can feel each individual seed under the ground as it grows.  
Next is Grantaire, who complained of the heat and brightness and has since pulled the shadows off the ground and around him and over his head like a blanket. There isn’t anything to give shade above him, so he had to use his own, but it doesn’t cover him completely-- the front of his shirt is bright and uncovered. Grantaire often complains that shadows are 2-D and so are smaller than what they are made of. It’s not quite enough, but it gets the job done. He’s taken some of Prouvaire’s shadow out from under him and used it to make a shadow of a butterfly flying against the ground around the circle. A vine is growing, under Prouvaire’s direction, trying to catch it.  
Bahorel is sitting back on his hands, and has an almond bar floating in front of him, which he periodically takes bites of. Prouvaire is vegan and Joly is allergic to peanuts and gluten, so everyone-friendly foods can get creative, though never bad. Bahorel is still surprised he even joined this group-- he’s not exactly the type for social justice or picnics in the meadow but he has to admit he enjoys it. Besides, he has decided that limiting yourself is stupid.  
Another almond bar floats next to him, but Bahorel isn’t doing that. Marius appears (or doesn’t appear, and Bahorel snickers at his own joke) to be having problems extending his invisibility again. Or perhaps to control it at all. It’s entirely possible Marius has no idea no one can see him.  
Next to the seemingly empty space that is Marius, Lesgles is making illusions again. This is unsurprising, using his mutation for entertainment has always been a pleasure for him. He is letting out long breaths, and each one has a bubble pop out of his mouth and float up. He’s occupied with making more, so he’s lost track of the ones he already made. They sit unmoving in the center of the circle, unaffected by wind or any of Grantaire’s attempts to pop them. Lesgles often forgets to dismiss his illusion, and has occasionally been the subject of calls asking why does the back room of the Musain looks like it’s from the nineteenth century? and are those absinthe bottles fake, Lesgles, you know you can’t bring your own drink in here!  
Watching the bubbles next to him, Joly sits amused. He has a bag containing his medicine, his epipen, and two water bottles. It’s important to stay hydrated, after all. Joly looks no different than when he sits with colleagues, even the anti-mutant ones. If one doesn’t know better, one might assume he isn’t using a mutation, or even that he doesn’t have one. In reality, Joly is the one who made a time bubble around them, so Feuilly can have time between shifts and Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Marius, and himself have time between classes to meet in a meadow. They may spend two hours here and return to their lives after only five minutes in the real world, ready to deal with whatever is thrown their way.


End file.
